‘What was it, then?’ she said. ‘Suicide because she couldn’t stand life without the cats? Hardly likely.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Hardly likely. Besides, I found the buzzard this afternoon at Liddle’s house. How would it get there? Someone must have been here on Friday night or before you got here on Saturday morning.’

‘Murder, then?’ She was not shocked. After thirty years as a social worker nothing, he thought, surprised her.

‘I can’t be certain,’ he said. ‘Not yet. I’ve spoken to Jane Mason. Apparently there are specific tests that can be used to find the poison. I have to talk to the police about it. They’ll find it a lot easier to make a positive decision about the cause of death if they know what they’re looking for.’

‘You think she was poisoned, then,’ Molly said. ‘Like the bird and the cats?’

‘I don’t know yet.’ He had a sudden stab of self doubt. Perhaps the whole theory was the product of an overheated imagination. He was not looking forward to facing a bright young inspector with his ideas.

‘But you think she might have been?’

He nodded.

‘By the same person?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said again. ‘Marcus Grenville was the person with most to lose by her allegations, but it hardly seems likely …’

She was going to say that she would believe anything of a politician with the views of Marcus Grenville but stopped herself. George would accuse her of childishness. He thought her politics were naïve and simplistic.

‘What will you do now?’ she asked.

‘I’ve made an appointment to see a police inspector at Appleworth to discuss it with him.’

‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Wait here until I have some definite news.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I can’t stay here with nothing to do.’ She thought, If Ursula was murdered we should speak to the people at the Friday night dinner party. I’ll go to the pottery. I knew Joanna quite well when she was younger. She and Ursula were close. She used to come to Back Rigg to play. I’ll start there.

So when Jeremy Grenville opened the door of the Old-School House expecting a visitor wanting to buy pottery he met Molly Palmer-Jones insisting that she had to speak to Joanna.

‘I don’t know,’ Jeremy said awkwardly, ‘ that she’s up to seeing anyone.’

His presence there surprised her. She remembered him still as a boy.

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I think she’ll see me.’

As he hesitated Simon joined them. He must have heard the exchange from the kitchen.

‘Mrs Palmer-Jones,’ he said. ‘It is Mrs Palmer-Jones. Of course you must come in. We were just going to have a drink before dinner. You must join us.’

He led her into a small living room, decorated in dark reds and browns and lit richly by the evening sunshine.